Sea Legs
by ItalysWifeMab
Summary: Running away from certain fate, Feliciano Vargas becomes a Cabin Boy on the HMS Hetalia. There, he meets danger, death, adventure, and a man named Ludwig.  M  soon  for gore, blood, cursing, and yaoi in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Alright. Let's get this thing crack-a-lackin'. I've been working on this for a while on my school laptop. I even had a few chapters finished. Sadly, before I had enough courage to start uploading it, my home laptop crashed. *sad face* **

** Anyways, I'm totes excited for this. I'd like to thank Kels and Sean for proof reading this bad boy for me. Also, I'd like to thank some naval websites- though I don't know their name by heart- for supplying what my Mom didn't know about the Royal Navy.**

** Warnings for this story: Gore, yaoi, blood, cursing, and sailors.**

** Warnings for this chapter: there's a bad word. That's just about it.**

It was a warm June day in the port. Many people lolled around, each gawking at the magnificent boat that was aloft in the bay. Sailors of all ages were up on the wooden deck, all at attention. They stood proud and merciless- just like their ship. The people from the region have never seen anything much bigger than a merchant ship; this goliath awed them. Children gaped on how big it was. Women gossiped about unheard battles which were- rumor had it- being kept from the public knowledge. Men lined up to enlist in the navy.

For one thing, this magnificent boat was a battle ship. The sixty-four cannons could easily terrify any amateur sailor. However, it was the woman on the bow that sent shivers down the spines of every man who came across the HMS Hetalia. Her skin was made out of white gold- which was more precious than yellow gold, mind you- giving her a ghostly appearance. Her hair appeared to be a reddish brown, only because the last bloodshed was weeks ago. Upon her lips were blood red rubies, each reflecting brilliantly in the sunlight. From the waist down, she sprouted a tail. Emeralds and Sapphires were strategically placed to catch the eyes of covetous women. This, of course, wasn't the frightening part of the maiden. It was her eyes that struck fear in the heart of any man. They were deep and dark; the black diamonds were known to drive people mad. This had spooked so many sailors, that a new form of punishment was to stand on the bowline and bore into the eyes that were said to see through souls. Most men jumped, rather facing death by their own ship than this punishment. The captain didn't approve.

There was an old wooden desk in the mist of the crowd in the port. A single line of young men trailed in front of it. On a wooden stool behind the desk sat a very plump man. He wore a neatly trimmed uniform, a dainty powdered wig, and a look of disapproval. He scowled for what seemed like the fiftieth time that day when Feliciano Vargas approached the desk.

"Name?" the plump man asked dully. This was the twenty-third man, right? Perhaps the twenty-fourth? He was growing annoyed with the vapid task of finding new recruits.

"V-Vargas. Feliciano Vargas, sir." Feliciano answered. He probably wouldn't have stuttered, but he was on the run. _Escaping can't be this easy…_ He thought to himself. Sweat slowly ran from his neck to his back. His hands shook vigorously.

"Age?" the man asked as he sized up Feliciano, and then shook his head. The boy could barely past for fourteen with that baby face. He was just skin and bones, _but_- the man thought grudgingly- _who wouldn't be? He's probably just another street urchin with no idea of his next meal. Those damn orphans keep multiplying every time you turn around. _

"Sixteen."

The man scribbled this down, laid down his feather pen in ink, and eyed Feliciano. The boy, beginning feeling uncomfortable, folded his arms against his chest. The plump man sighed, and leaned back. He rubbed his chin between his forefinger and thumb while looking thoughtfully at Feliciano.

"Well," he finally said, "can ye read?"

Feliciano smiled broadly at this. "Yes, _Nonno_ taught me."

"What's an Italian," the man recognizing the foreign word, and instinctively questioning, "doing signing up for His Majesty's Royal Navy?"

The smile instantly dissolved, but the sly boy remained his composure. "I want to serve His Majesty, sir."

"What else," the man asked, "can ye do?"

"I can read, write, clean, mend clothes, cook, and learn, sir."

The man grunted. It wasn't much of disapproval than it was approval. Nevertheless, he nodded. He slid the paper around for Feliciano to see and read clearly. Handing him the feather, he told the boy to sign on the line. The boy did as he was told, and the document was snatched up swiftly by the man.

The plump man grunted, and then stated, "You are now a cabin boy in His Majesty's Royal Navy. You are to learn the regulations and rules by those appointed over you. You will obey the orders given to you, even if they are dangerous. You may die, boy. The navy is a serious thing; wipe that smile off your face. Are ye ready to sail the world, lad?"

Feliciano dully nodded. The recruit was then guided to the deck. He looked upon the faces of the sailors, but none returned his gaze. They were all emotionless statues, immune to any disturbance. He shivered, for he knew he would –in a few moments- become lifeless like them. He stood askew to the formation until someone with a decorated chest ordered him to find a spot.

He scrambled for a spot, and then mimicked the frozen state of the men who surrounded him. However, having a short attention span, he found it hard to stay still. His ear itched. His palms sweated. His eyes yearned for something- anything- to distract them. A fly buzzed around his field of vision. It flew hastily until it landed next to Feli- on someone's nose.

He glanced sideways at the boy. The boy didn't budge. Feliciano bit his lip to hide his laughter. He felt pity for the poor Aryan boy. It still was funny, though. Especially when he could see the Aryan's jaw jutting forward, clearly disturbed. The fly, somehow sensing safety in the seriousness of it all, was still.

Once they were called at ease, the Aryan cursed and swatted at the fly while Feliciano laughed heartily. The Aryan glared at Feliciano. Fierce blue eyes met warm brown ones, and Feli bit his lip again. He looked away, feeling conflicted.

The plump man returned with a uniformed man who wore a crooked smile. Eli, the midshipman had introduced himself as, was the name. Bright green eyes lit up under his long bangs. His short, wavy hair was the dirtiest of blondes. He showed Feliciano and Ludwig- that was the Aryan's name- around the ship and to their sleeping cabins. Eli handed them well-worn dark green bags. They each got a hammock, but they did not get the luxury of a private room. Three other cabin boys slept in that room after an uneventful dinner.

It was in the middle of the night when Feliciano was officially welcomed in. He had woken up suddenly by a scratching noise. He sat up in such haste that it had sent him tumbling to the wooden floor. The older cabin boys noticed his clumsiness and laughed.

"Welcome to the HMS Hetalia," an apathetic voice said to the scared Italian, "where if the rats don't get ye, Arthur's food will."

**[A/N] Short first chapter is short. It had to be. My others will definitely be longer. **

**So, I have been doing a lot of homework on this one. This is my first Hetalia story (note: not my first; I had an account on here that was sadly deleted by mein mutti.). I've been desperate to type anything, and I suddenly found some inspiration. Anybody heard of the book "Bloody Jack" by L.A. Meyer? It is a marvelous story, and a well-written series. It inspired me to write a fanfiction like this one. Also my enrollment in Naval Sea Cadet Corps kind of motivated me. **

**Obviously, this is a naval story. If you haven't picked it up yet (I'm sure you will have by in the next chapter) it is around the nineteenth century. Though the HMS Hetalia was not a real ship, His Majesty's Royal Navy was very real back then. It was –in fact- the most powerful naval power in the world at that time. Go Engrand! **

**What's the bad news? Since my laptop crashed, I lost a lot of my documents. Of those documents lost was this story. I decided that I wanted to be impatient. Updates will most definitely be uncoordinated and unexpected, that is unless I finish it up before my "personal deadline". I deeply apologize in advance for any heart attacks due to over-anticipations. I always was the heart-breaker.**

**Translation:**

**Nonno- Grandpa (Italian)**

**Like the story? Follow it! Want to see some amazing GerIta or Hetalia videos? Check out my youtube channel. I'm ItalysWifeMab. I'm not half bad, either. **

**Please review! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay. I'm switching the rating for this. I will do the dance of the "T" and "M". It **_**will**_** be "M" worthy one day, but right now…cursing and violence is the most vulgar thing in this. Sorry. It'll get there one day. Kudos to AlwaysTomorrow and silverstream27 for reviewing. Also, LittleMissDarkling, royaldigitalknight, the girl in the mirrior, silverstream27, YellowBird'sMusic, Monx97, and AngelWingz1988 - **_**thank you SO much for adding this to your Story Alert/Favorite Stories. **_**I hope you will enjoy this and I will try to not let you down.**

**Warnings for this chapter: More sailor language, lap sitting, and blossoming friendships! *insert kawaii face here* /shot**

Feliciano had never, _ever_, slept so little in his lifetime. He had soon learned to ignore the random rustle, only to find that rats were not the only ones to be blamed for his restless night. After the scratching noises had faded into nothingness, Feliciano learned how uncomfortable his hammock had become. He tossed to and fro, switching from his left side, right side, stomach, and back. He had stripped to his undergarments while climbing into his hammock, and the rough fibers were irritating the poor boy. Eventually, he found a comfortable position and closed his eyes, trying to imagine that he was in his own bed back home- when in reality- he was on the wooden war toy of the gods.

As he slowly faded into a light slumber, small squeaks sounded off in the corner. Feliciano opened his eyes enough to see a dirty blonde looming over the source. With a sickening snap, the squeals were abruptly brought to an end. Feliciano's eyes snapped shut, and he whispered a prayer over the poor thing. _May it go to rat heaven,_ he prayed, _for even though it had been annoying, it was a good little rat. _

After secretly vowing he will never eat rat meat, he fell into a comforting sleep.

This was, sadly for him, very short lived. It felt as if he had just closed his eyes only to be rudely awoken by a Chinese.

"It is time to get up-aru," the man said softly as he pulled back his hair into a low pony-tail. The Italian pouted, but reluctantly sat up. Stretching, he hopped out of the hammock. He folded it up- rather neatly- and placed it in the corner amongst the others. His hands blindly searched his sea bag, which was surprisingly vacuous, and he grasped the uniform inside. It was tattered at the ends, stained and dull from age, and reeked of the contemptible scent of must. Clumsy fingers bungled up the buttons. Frowning, he slipped on the enormous trousers that swallowed his emaciated legs.

"Mio Dio," he murmured, pulling up the flaccid trousers in an attempt to save himself from any further embarrassment. A cabin boy with bobbed black hair and silent dark brown eyes saw the younger male's troubles. He handed the flustering boy a strip of fabric long enough to go around his waist to keep his pants up.

Feliciano flashed a thankful smile at the boy. The slight guy blushed slightly, avoided eye contact, and mumbled a welcome. He also stated softly, "We must wait until orders."

The other cabin boys were now fully dressed in pitiful excuses for uniforms. They stood waiting in their cabin for any orders. Feliciano curled up against the back wall. The Chinese sat in a corner near the front. The other black haired boy rested on the pile of hammocks, his attention caught by a tattered book. The blond stood by the door, nervously wringing his hands. Feliciano looked at all of them, taking in every little detail.

First, there was the boy who had helped Feliciano with his pants situation. His hair was neatly trimmed- though it quite long- and was bluntly black against his white skin. His face was lightly burned around the nose and eyes. He was lanky and lean, though not as skinny as Feliciano. His hands and bare feet were calloused and dirtied. However, his eyes were the darkest brown on the boy. They were unreadable; it was so easy to lose yourself in that blank stare of the adolescent.

The second one struck Feliciano in an odd way. His hair was worn in a thick low ponytail. His warm brown eyes were in order with his deep tan. Something told Feliciano that he would become dark as well. As Feliciano watched, the Chinese took out a folded portrait and gazed upon it. His warm eyes were filled with emotion, and before the Asian could cry his first tear, Feliciano shamefully turned away.

Feliciano glanced around the room before neatly settling on the Aryan. Ludwig, Feli had remembered his name to be, wringed his hands at the front of the room. His blond hair was combed back in a crisp, clean manner. His muscled body filled up his uniform very exquisitely. Feliciano found his cheeks warming up when he noticed that the man was not lacking in the good looks department. Feli's gaze dropped when the cocky midshipman Eli waltzed in.

Many people pondered why Eli Héderáry enlisted in the Royal Navy. He was a gentleman; not a lover of the rough seas. His eyes were well worn with kindness and patience. His face was thin with elegance. The lithe man had a sort of swagger to him, a kind that made the place feel lighter. Everyone- especially the cabin boys- loved him. A smile had crept upon his face as usual; there was hardly a time when the man was lowly. His polished heels merrily clicked on the wooden floor.

"G'mornin', boys!" He announced. His arms spread wide, as if he were to envelope the whole world in his ardent embrace. Feliciano's face brightened to this display of affection. Eli noticed this and greeted him first. A surprised cry sounded when the scrawny man's body was seized in one swooping bone-crushing bear hug. Feliciano watched helplessly from the midshipman's shoulder as both of the dark haired cabin boys ran franticly out the door. Ludwig stood there –too much in shock to do anything but gape. When he was released, Feliciano staggered backwards and gasped for air. Eli turned to Ludwig, and the Aryan's blood turned cold. He flinched when his arm was grabbed with a viselike grip. An arm snaked around the still spluttering Italian to rest upon his hips.

To his horror, Ludwig saw that the impassioned smile of the Midshipman's had never faltered. _What the hell? _

"Boys," _Gott, was that merriment in his voice? _"I'm yer sea pap."

Feliciano wrinkled his nose cutely. "My what?" he asked.

He received no answer. The midshipman continued to prattle and reiterated his new position to the new cabin boys. Feliciano giggled, throwing his arm around the midshipman's neck. A gleeful sound erupted from his lips as the trio exited the room.

Sunlight kissed the faces of the new cabin boys. They sat on the deck, each holding ropes as Eli attempted to teach them the art of knots. If Feliciano was any closer to his 'sea pap', he would be on top of him. Eli didn't pay heed to the lack of boundaries. He didn't get upset when Feliciano accidently tied a granny knot instead of a square knot. Instead, he showed the lad how to tell the difference between the two, and patted his head. When Eli saw Ludwig's rope, he praised the young man, holding the Aryan face in his hands. The pale face flushed brilliantly.

The time came for Eli to attend to his duties. He hugged the Italian, whom he amorously called Feli. He ruffled Ludwig's golden locks as he departed, turning the young man cherry red. Then he left, taking the giddy attitude with him. Ludwig looked at his dull shoes to avoid the awkward atmosphere. It was then when he remembered he had never introduced himself properly to the boy. He squirmed uncomfortably; very aware of the honey eyes that sought out his.

"Can you show me how to make a square knot?" The voice was rich and heavily accented. It was lighter and higher than a Spanish accent –which was very uncommon; the Spanish dialect was so obnoxiously whiney that it torn Ludwig to pieces. However, his tone was different. It flowed smoothly, almost as graceful as a mountain stream that ran through his _Opa's_ land. It was Italian; he was sure of it.

Ludwig coughed, and nodded. His composure melted completely when the younger sat in his lap, facing the same direction.

Ludwig was a reserved young gentleman. He was the youngest son out of the Beilschmidt family, a powerful family that had once originated from the Altstadt of Trier*. He was literate, polite, and graceful. His father, Ludolf Beilschmidt*, had been a high-ranking officer in His Majesty's Navy. His Brother, Gilbert Beilschmidt, had inherited the family business and was comfortable in the security of his German tavern in Britain.

The German aboard the HMS Hetalia felt anything but comfort and security as the youth plopped his bosom in his lap. His heart stopped, unused to this treatment. Trembling, he took the impossibly smooth hands into his own. He tied the knot slowly and cautiously, even though panic ran through his veins. The most dreadful part about the situation was the fact that _the damn idiot in his lap did not look unhindered at all. _In fact, he looked completely at ease.

_It drove the Aryan mad_.

"Again," the young man in his lap said, undoing the knot "show me again."

Ludwig sighed. _This might be a while._ He made quick work of the knot, twisting it this way and that, until it was a perfect square knot. The strange lad in his lap was silent; once more with the calculating gleam in his eyes, and pulled it loose. They sat there untying and retying the square knot until they were interrupted by the two other cabin boys. Upon their arrival, Ludwig roughly shoved the smaller man out of his lap. The latter let out a high pitched howl and began to whine.

"Wh-why would you to that to me…" the auburn sniffled softly, rubbing his knees.

Ludwig looked at those pathetic eyes of the face became rather hot. "I…er…I-uh…" _His eyes…are they brown? No…well, yes…kind of…Th-they're…interesting…_

While Ludwig was in mesmerized, Feliciano quickly recovered from his fall. He got up gracefully and smiled to the other two dark haired. He began to introduce himself when he was cut off by the ponytailed man waving his hand. The man in the ponytail just smiled. He motioned for all of them to follow.

"C'mon, I know of a place-aru." His voice rasped, almost as if he were afraid to be caught in the act. The crew said nothing, and followed him to the main mast.

Wang Yao has never been afraid of heights. As a young boy, he would climb any tree that the neighborhood kids triple dog dared him to. If –at that young age –he was asked why, he would reply without skipping a beat. He loved to see the world, to feel the wind all around him; but most importantly, to hear the birds sing their songs of love. He had joined the navy to honor his family name; however, deep down, he knew he just wanted to listen to the birds.

Yao was greatly disappointed. Not only were there limited places to be up high, but also no birds. The only times he would hear their calls would be when they close to port.

Feliciano looked up the mast. _Ve…that's really high…_ A single line hung from the crow's nest. Feliciano smile curtly, but that smile disappeared the moment when the man in the ponytail began to climb it.

"Up here-aru," the man cheerfully said, scaling the mast quickly; using the ropes wound tightly together as foot leverage. The shorter, quiet man followed suit. Feliciano gulped. The blonde grabbed the line to begin climbing when he heard a pathetic whimper. Turning, he saw the auburn shaking slightly.

"…do you want to go first?" The German offered the line to the trembling cabin boy. Honey eyes locked with his ice blue ones. _Oh. _

"No, no…" the boy ran his hand through his brown locks, "I…um…I don't like heights." The end of the sentence was high and shrilly.

The ponytail man had reached the top, and was now safely inside the crow's nest. He looked over the side, wondering what was taking so long. When he saw the two boys still at the base of the mast, he hollered: "Hey! Hurry up-aru!"

Ludwig looked at the auburn boy, who returned the gaze with a pitiful pout. Tears formed in his honey eyes.

"I-I'm sorry! I d-don't fancy he-heights." Now the smaller male was in the crow's nest. Ludwig turned to climb, and he was suddenly attacked by a pair of tanned legs and arms. A face was pressed to his back. Ludwig could feel lips moving against his back.

Shocked, he let go of the rope to whisk around. The boy was crying. _Oh Gott…how could I leave him now? _Ludwig sighed, giving in.

"P-please help me," the boy spoke hurriedly; obviously nervous, "I'm not good with heights. I'm not that heavy; you could carry me. I'll try to learn how to climb it. Please. I don't want to be alone and-"

Ludwig placed a pale hand over the boy's mouth, silencing him.

"Listen," Ludwig said blushing, "I will carry you up. No need to cry." _Not that he hated to see tears on that face… _The boy nearly knocked Ludwig over when he hugged him.

"Ve, Really?" _For such a skinny lad, he had an atrocious grip._

Ludwig nodded. He gathered the smaller boy; hand on the latter's rear. The boy instinctively wrapped his legs around Ludwig's waist and arms around his neck. Ludwig's face felt as if it was on fire. _Well, here we go_.

Ludwig climbed carefully; fully aware of the tightening grip around his neck and waist. He found that the deadweight was, as promised, very light. Soon, the body in his arms went limp. Ludwig stopped, and glanced at the boy. They were only halfway to their destination where two heads peered down at them. The auburn was looking down; shaking slightly.

"Hey," Ludwig whispered, "stop that."

The boy nodded dully. Ludwig continued climbing the mast at a painstakingly slow pace. Three steps later, Ludwig slipped to some degree. Ludwig groaned and got his footing while the strange boy strung around him squeaked and buried his tawny head into the Aryan's neck. Ludwig shushed the boy and continued to shuffle up the mast.

Finally, _finally_, they got there. The blonde eased the brunette into the close fitting space and caught his breath. The man with the short black hair smiled warmly, while the other man gave an annoyed "Well, that prolly could've been quicker-aru" as the younger two sat down. Seeing that there wasn't much room, the touchy brunette plopped into the Ludwig's lap. Silence polluted the air for a moment until the short haired man spoke up.

"You probably are wondering why we brought you up here," he said softly. "It's because-"

"It's because you are joining our brotherhood-aru!" the man in the ponytail interrupted. "The 'Dragon Pandas'! Sound's righteous, doesn't it-aru? Something straight from the King himself."

"Don't jump the noose, Yao. We haven't decided on a proper name yet…It would be more considerate if we ask for their opinion first."

"Oh, sod off, Kiku. We don't even know if they want to be in our silly brotherhood-aru," Yao chided. Two dark heads turned towards the German and Italian.

It only was a moment's hesitation for the Italian who –to Ludwig's displeasure –bounced with joy. "We could be the Pasta Gents~!"

**_Oh, Lord._**

**There's a lot of old English in here. Mostly from Shakespeare's **_**Romeo and Juliet**_**. We're reading it in my English class. It's a joy (I'm Mercutio). **

**I take German class, so I love to use things in my stories that I've learned about. Other languages will be translated with Google Translate.**

**Translations-**

_**Opa**_**- German. The affectionate way to say grandfather (like Grandpa or Gramps). It's taken from the word Groβmutter.**

*** the Altstadt of Trier- The word 'Altstadt literally means 'Old Town' in German.****Most German towns have an Altstadt, even though the ravages of war have destroyed many of them, especially during the Thirty Years' War (1618-1648). According to the **_**Gesta Treverorum**_**, the city was founded by Trebeta, an Assyrian prince, centuries before ancient Rome. He was the son of Ninus, King of Assyria, by a wife prior to his marriage to Queen Semiramis. His stepmother, Semiramis, despised him and when she took over the kingdom after the death of his father, Ninus, Trebeta left Assyria and went to Europe. After wandering for a time, he led a group of colonizers to settle at Trier around 2000 BC in what is now Southwestern Germany.**

*** Ludolf Beilschmidt- Yeah, I kind of threw that in there. He's going to be Ludwig's birth father. I wanted the name to be a little like Ludwig's. The name Ludolf is a Germanic name, meaning "people and wolf". It is an extremely uncommon name; it's not even in the top 1,000 names for boys. **

**A/N- Sadly, I do have really slow updates. I try to do my research on these things, and that takes time. Also, I divide my extra time making videos for my Youtube channel and working on this.**

**Be a darling and leave a review please. I will gladly, **_**gratefully**_**, joyfully accept them. **


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